A Moment Together
by Seishuku Skuld
Summary: Moonlight, sunlight, a little bit of silver, and all the fluffiness of HarryDraco slash you could ever want.


** A Moment Together **  
By Seishuku Skuld  
  
Series: Harry Potter   
Pairing: Harry/Draco   
Warnings: light slash, fluff, moonlight, sunlight and a little bit of silver.   
Date: July 2004  
  
Author's note: I have to thank Asphodel for this. (She had this one line in her Harry/Snape fic that totally inspired me. Ha, so something good can come of Harry/Snape after all. ) So here's some Harry/Draco for you, absolutely pointless except for the fluff.  
  
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It was often late at night when Draco would go seek his solace, a quiet place he could sneak to, away from his house, away from his friends, away from the school. He could never escape Hogwarts entirely, but he could wander its grounds, and he did so frequently, long after the hours of curfew when he was supposed to be tucked snugly in his bed.  
  
He liked the lake and the edges of the Forbidden Forest, and every place in between where there was grass beneath his feet and the sky was dark and filled with stars. There was always the faint rustle of his footsteps, the hoot of an owl, the creaking of the Whomping Willow, for him to listen to, because darkness, as every Slytherin knew from the dimness of their dungeon, was every bit as lively as day.  
  
Draco walked in the spring and the fall and even sometimes in the winter, his wand held lightly in his hand as he conjured little heat spells against the bitter chill of the January winds. He went whatever the weather—rain, snow, or shine—because Malfoys were solitary creatures and he, being the very model of a Malfoy, was certainly no exception to the rule.  
  
Lately Draco had added one more reason to his list of emerging into the night for a stroll, but unfortunately that very reason did tread a bit on what he liked to call his 'alone time.' There were some days where he went outside, and he did not tell a soul. Not even the person he was usually supposed to meet.  
  
It was in the middle of spring when Draco climbed out of his secret tunnel, shifting a rather large-size and stationary-looking rock to the side. The air was nippy, for this part of Britain had yet to decide whether it wanted to be cold or warm, and apparently had clung to the former for lack of anything better. Draco, parted the tall grasses and lifted himself out of the passage, sliding out of it smoothly and rolling the rock back into place with a flick of his wand.  
  
He dusted his robes off and made his way out of the shadows of Hogwarts and into full moonlight. The sky was clear and the stars twinkled brightly, winking at him cheerily like thousands of tiny little eyes. Draco allowed himself a smile, the Malfoy smile that only Malfoys and their chosen ones got to see, a smile that he kept mostly to himself and shared with only one person alone. He closed his eyes breathed the cool spring air, so different from the powerful smell of the stones of Hogwarts, or the musty scent of the dungeon. This air was light and fresh, carrying with it the coolness of the lake water and the blooming of the flowers. Draco liked it best in the spring, because he could smell the soil and the grass, and the new-forming leaves on the branches of the trees. All around him, the grounds of Hogwarts were awakening from long months of sleep, and if he listened hard enough, he swore he could hear the chatter of the squirrels and the sounds of the hooves of the Centaurs deep in the forest.  
  
Draco was quiet on his midnight excursions, stepping softly, careful not to disturb the gradual spring transition. It was only here, outside in the wilderness that he felt truly alive, truly himself—Draco Malfoy—a singular being, without the necessity of being connected to another, connected to other beings.  
  
He was walking on the far side of the lake when he started, seeing a shape take form from the darkness, something he had until moments earlier, dismissed as part of the nightscape.  
  
"What are you doing here?" asked Draco with a frown, his mouth taking on the familiar Malfoy pout that came so easily to those thin lips, clear evidence that he was upset. Draco could see that the figure in the darkness frown a little. He'd never mistake the turn of those dark eyebrows or the curve of that lower lip. "Potter."  
  
Harry could tell that Draco was not the angry sort of upset, but the kind that meant that he had accidentally stumbled into 'Draco Malfoy space only' and would eventually be forgiven for his innocent blunder provided that be a good boy.  
  
"I saw you from the tower," Harry answered simply, stepping out of the shadows of the tall reeds and cautiously towards Draco, wondering of the slim blond would back away from his advance.  
  
"You can't have. This is too far away from the school to be able to see anything as small as me."  
  
Harry shook his head and took another, a larger step forward. Draco did not back up, but he did lean backwards ever so slightly, still regarding Harry with that pout. Harry reached forward casually flicked a strand of hair out of Draco's eyes. He straightened it and placed it back amongst the rest of Draco's hair where it was meant to be. "I saw this."  
  
Draco raised an elegant eyebrow more curious than angry now, and determined not to be seduced into his boyfriend's arms during 'alone time.' "What?"  
  
"Your hair."  
  
Draco's eyebrow didn't go back down. He folded his arms, unconvinced at the obvious flirtatious attempt on Harry's part. "My hair."  
  
"It reflects the moonlight."  
  
Draco still looked unconvinced, but he allowed Harry to pull him close because he liked Harry's arms around him. He promised himself that next time, 'alone time' was really going to be alone time. So he leaned into Harry, his shoulder against the dark haired boy's and he was glad they were the same height, because when he hunched a little, he fit perfectly in the crook of Harry's neck, his nose in perfect nudging distance to Harry's chin, his lips within perfect reach of Harry's neck. Draco stood with his arms still folded, tucked comfortably in his boyfriend as Harry wrapped one arm around him, slowly drawing out a wand with the other hand.  
  
"Like this," Harry said, unconsciously leaning his head to the side and feeling Draco's soft hairs brush his cheek.  
  
Sparks flew from the end of Harry's wand, all shades of silver sparks fountaining from its tip. He waved it lazily in the air before them, his breath held as he conjured the image of what he had seen not even an hour before.  
  
Harry felt rather than heard the soft hitch of Draco's breath, the blond's thin body tensing as Harry's illusion took form. They watched silently for a few moments, noting the moon drifting out from behind thin cloud-cover, and Draco nodded appreciatively at the details of the moonlight splashing across the lake, its still surface reflecting the tops of the Forbidden Forest. Then there it was, a small flash of silver by the edge of the lake, the light illuminating a figure making its way out from the shadow of the school's tall spires and into the shadow of the forest, and had Draco been looking for something else he might have missed the flash entirely and dismissed it as a hallucination brought on by the brightness of the moon's light. Then the vision faded, and Harry's arm tightened about his lover.  
  
"My hair isn't silver," Draco said, keeping the skepticism heavy in his voice.  
  
"It isn't usually," Harry admitted, "but it is in the moonlight."  
  
Draco gave him a playful shove and turned his head away, unmindful of the fact that he was still caught in one of Harry's arms. "That's one of the stupidest lines I've ever heard from you. I hope you didn't pick it off some Gryffindor first year."  
  
Harry laughed, taking advantage of Draco's exposed neck, settling himself there and nibbling playfully at the soft skin he found. "That's really what I saw."  
  
"I don't believe you," sniffed Draco imperiously, being contrary just for contrary's sake, tilting a little further to the side and giving Harry even more access.  
  
"I couldn't have made it up," Harry replied, breathing hot breaths as his lips hovered an infinitesimally small distance above Draco's flesh, "but that's all right, you don't have to believe me."  
  
"Mmm," Draco murmured, "I don't."  
  
"But you have to admit it was beautiful. And somehow I did know you were out here tonight."  
  
"A lucky guess, Potter, because you're always lucky."  
  
Harry laughed. "Are you going to make me even luckier?"  
  
"Shut up," Draco gave him another shove, harder this time, and Harry stumbled a few steps, dragging Draco inelegantly with him. "A Malfoy doesn't do it outdoors."  
  
"There's a first for everything," Harry grinned, "even for a Malfoy."  
  
Draco scowled at him, but it quickly turned into a smile when Harry touched noses with him, an absolutely saccharine gesture that Draco had never been able to resist. He tried to convince himself that he hated when Harry did that, but in the darkest depths of his little Malfoy soul he loved it.  
  
"Let's sit down," Harry said, picking a spot that seemed to be mostly bereft of moisture. Draco's mouth pressed into a thin line, but Harry only replied with, "Come on, Draco, your bum's been wet enough out here enough times to know that's a fate it'll never escape."  
  
Draco snorted indignantly but plopped himself next to Harry anyway, and they immediately wound themselves about each other, arms, hands, fingers, and lips. It was another sigh of the wind before Draco drew back, his eyelids fluttering open. The tips of his eyelashes glowed with silver fire and took the remainder of Harry's breath away.  
  
They stayed like that until the morning. Harry had to remind himself to breathe a few times, and Draco had to remind himself that indeed his bum was wet, and that no amounts of Harry Potter's lips, tongues, or caresses would fix that or make it go away. But by and large, Harry was successful in breathing, and Draco was very unsuccessful at staying mad at Harry for any long period of time, and when the sun crossed the horizon, and tinged the sky with golden light, Harry was pleased to find that there were some strands of Draco's hair that stayed a pure silver—few and rare in a field of gold.  
  
Draco had fallen asleep on Harry's chest, and the dark haired boy had to shake him awake as the time for breakfast approached.  
  
"Come on, we'll be late for breakfast."  
  
Draco groaned. "Breakfast can go to hell."  
  
"Yes, but Potions won't."  
  
Draco yawned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Since when have you, Potter, been so eager on going to Potions?"  
  
"I'm not," Harry said, "I just don't want detention again. Snape gave me so much work last time I couldn't see you for a week."  
  
"At least you did work," Draco replied blandly.  
  
"And then you distracted me for the whole of the next week and I was behind again."  
  
"That's because I always do my work."  
  
Harry stuck his tongue out and got up, jostling Draco up along with him. "See?" Harry patted Malfoy's behind. "Just a little damp."  
  
"Don't go pinching me in public, Potter," Draco sniffed as he straightened his cloak and his robes, "or Snape will give you two weeks."  
  
Harry laughed and Draco laughed too, and fingers linked, they made their way back into the school, late for breakfast but not for Potions, where for the past few months, no one bothered anymore to ask why there was a Potter sharing a bench with a Malfoy, but then again, anyone who did have questions or doubts would just have to look at the way they smiled at each other. It made the girls giggle, it made Ron gag, and it gave Snape a very disapproving frown. But it was a remarkably simple answer.  
  
_End_  



End file.
